Bitter Sweet Poison
by we-kiss-greater-meanings
Summary: "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall," she hums. "Much like this one I suppose." His Master's eyes widen and he turns towards his demon. ((Also posted on Archive of Our Own, this is mostly just a character study. Constructive criticism is welcome!))


Bitter Sweet Poison

His Young Master is sleeping peacefully in his arms, the child's doll-like skin glowing in the moonlight. Sebastian pulls the boy closer to his chest so that his coat presses against his Young Lord's face, keeping the chill away from his cheeks and nose.

Sebastian breathes in the cool night air as he swiftly walks back towards the estate, scenting the area around them for trouble such as demons' or other possible threats. He cannot detect any.

A bitter yet sickly sweet smell fills his human forms lungs and a low animalistic rumble builds in his chest but he pushes it down, eyes briefly flashing scarlet. Ah yes, the Young Master's blood. Essence of his soul lingers in the fine fluid and Sebastian has to hold back a groan, mouth salivating. The Young Lord's soul smells distinctively different from the many he has come into contact with before. The other souls' were overly sweet and weren't as bitter or acidic as he prefers. But his Master's is almost perfect.

Sure throughout the years (or possibly months) he can tame the soul, feed it revenge and bitterness, make his Master's soul taste like home; like hell. The young boy turned ten six months ago so there is still time left. A cut resides on his Young Master's cheek from the case they are returning from; Sebastian will blame himself this time for being so careless, for it could have been avoided. He will be more cautious in the near future from now on.

The unusually frail boy had barely even needed Sebastian to do any of the work because the case the Queen had handed out had been quite simple. But of course, his Young Lord had been hurt by his _own_ careless mistake; thinking that the small boy would be safe because of how minuscule the task had been.

Sebastian shakes his head and smiles, turning left at a crossroads to return the young one to his home. Very careless indeed.

 _A young woman stands atop the railing of the freshly constructed London Bridge. Her blonde hair ripples across her back and she closes her eyes, holding out her arms she smiles up towards the night sky and slightly wobbles._

" _Hey!" His Master yells from within his arms, carrying the boy towards the woman at a human-paced sprint._

 _The woman on the railing yelps and opens her eyes, dress clinging to her legs with the whipping wind._

" _Young Master if I may, I do not think it wise to startle her for she may fall." The boy ignores him and squirms to be let down. He obliges._

" _If she falls Sebastian, go after her," his Master murmurs while slowly walking towards her. He nods his head and places his hand over his chest._

" _Of course." His Young Master is a curious human, usually acting distant and cold to most while showing a softer side to others. The woman must remind him of his deceased mother, soft features and long corn-silk hair. His Master's arrogance clouds his judgement at times but he has a kind, soft heat; distinctly different from his soul. Bitter sweet poison, broken. The demon grins at the cobblestone arch that holds them above the water._

" _Marybeth," his Young Master has intoned quietly as to not scare her. The woman turns her head and stares at him, appraising._

" _Once you fall you can't be put back together again," she giggles while turning towards the large body of water._

 _His Young Lord carefully begins to walk towards her. "Ma'am please you are not in the right state of mind. You must listen to me. You are being controlled mercilessly by a man you met a few days ago. You don't want to do this," explaining the situation does not seem to get through to her; which in turn only frustrates the boy further._

" _Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall," she hums. "Much like this one I suppose." His Master's eyes widen and he turns towards his demon. Sebastian nods his head with furrowed eyebrows, why would the man who's controlling her use a nursery rhyme as a way to kill? If they hadn't of caught Marybeth in time she would have been the fifth suicide this week. He shakes his head before slowly stepping after his Young Master, making sure nothing happens to the boy; humans are so easy to manipulate._

 _His Master is a few inches away from her, he reaches out a hand and freezes in place as the woman tips forward slightly. "Sebastian-"_

" _-she is alright My Lord, just continue speaking to her and I shall get her down," Sebastian softly interrupts. The boy nods his head and takes a deep breath, parting his lips and-_

 _The woman smiles and jumps._

 _Sebastian is quickly removing his tailcoat to follow his Master's orders when he sees the foolish boy standing atop the railing, the Young Lord dives in after Marybeth. The Faustian mark sends a deep ache throughout his chosen forms body. "Master!" Sebastian has no time to dwell on why his heart had stopped beating in his chest cavity before picking up double time as he throws himself over the bridge after the girl and his Master._

 _The only reason why Marybeth is even_ _ **on**_ _his mind would be because of the order he had received earlier._

 _He tells himself his Young Master will be alright as he plunges into the water- only frigid to a mortals' skin- and is forced to wrap his arms around the woman before he can retrieve his Young Lord._

 _The Faustian contract sending a warmth throughout his body and mind that can only be referred to as mocking._

Evidently, the woman and of course his Young Master are alright as he is carrying the boy back to the estate, quickly grabbing his tailcoat before they leave and, after attempting to dry him off, allows for Scotland Yard to handle Marybeth and the killer; who had been hypnotizing his victims. On their way back to the estate the young boy had fallen asleep, shivering and dead to the world. And really what kind of butler would he be if he couldn't keep his Young Master warm on their way back to the manor?

"Sebastian," a sleepy voice mutters.

"Yes My Lord?"

"It just occurred to me," the boy slurs, "The nursery rhyme, it never said that Humpty Dumpty was an egg."

Sebastian gives a wide sardonic grin. A fine soul indeed.

 _ **End of part one-**_


End file.
